


Red Lace and Heels

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, Lace Panties, Lapdance, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Red Pants, Red Pants Monday, Sherlock in Heels, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't want John to go to work, and he has a clever little plan to distract him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Lace and Heels

**Author's Note:**

> Written thanks to [this picture](http://willietheplaidjacket.tumblr.com/post/63422397580/the-product-of-my-kinky-livestream-and-just-in) by Willietheplaidjacket
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)

John sat on the couch, tying his shoe, still tired from a night of not the best sleep. Sherlock stepped out of his room. "Where are you going?"

"It's Monday," said John without looking up. "I told you I had a few hours at the clinic today."

"You aren't going anywhere." Sherlock moved towards him.

John registered the sounds of his walk. Slowly he looked up with a huff. "I have a job...are you wearing heels?" He stared at Sherlock's feet. His eyes went from Sherlock's feet, up the black trousers to the white button-up shirt, finally settling on the faint amusement in his lover's eyes.

"You are staying in today."

Licking his lips, John leaned back. Could always tell them Sherlock needed him today. Wasn't a total lie, after all.

"No touching yourself," ordered Sherlock, starting on his top button.

John locked his hands behind his head, watching as Sherlock slowly exposed pale skin, inch by tantalizing inch. He certainly had John's growing interest as buttons slipped through fabric. Sherlock's blue-green eyes watched John hungrily. Finally the shirt hung loose. John licked his lips again as Sherlock slowly bared one shoulder.

Hips shifting, John thought about how much he’d like to mark that perfect shoulder. Eyes still on John’s face, he dropped his hands to his zip. John held his breath as it came down torturously slow. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and dragged his trousers down.

“Red?” John blinked, staring at the lacy pants that left little to the imagination. Sherlock was half hard, pressing against the slip of fabric, the faint hint of wet where he was already leaking as he watched the doctor. He raised one arm and struck a pose, lengthening his body and letting John admire the sight. This was well worth skipping work for.

“Sherlock.” John’s mouth was dry, cock straining against his jeans. A wicked little smile curled the man’s lips as he let his trousers fall, then the shirt slip from his arms. Stepping out of the trousers he stood before John in only heels and those ludicrous pants. “My God, Sherlock,” John had to fight with himself to keep his hands up behind his head.

Moving forward again, Sherlock straddled John’s lap. John’s hands came forward automatically, but he grabbed and pinned them behind his head. Leaning forward, his breath was hot against John’s ear. “No. Not until I say.” He he lowered himself down and ground against John’s erection. His head went back as he groaned, wanting nothing more than to flip Sherlock over and fuck him into the couch, but willing to play his games. For now.

He moved deliberately, still holding John in place. Leaning down he ran his tongue up John’s neck, making the man buck up against him needfully, straining against his hands. He bit down and John groaned again, thrashing beneath him as he continued to move in just the right way.

John could feel Sherlock’s hardness against his stomach. He looked down and could see his erection barely contained by the fabric of the red pants. His own was getting painful with the restriction of the jeans and way he could feel the curve of Sherlock’s arse. That was it. Sherlock rocked back and in a moment, John shoved him and they landed in a heap on the floor. He pinned Sherlock with his body weight, pinning his wrists as he gave a bruising kiss, biting as he pulled away and leaving Sherlock panting.

Watching his face, John dropped a hand to free himself. Sherlock wrapped his long legs around John’s waist and he could feel the heels digging into his back, just a little. He pushed the fabric of the pants aside and slid his fingers down to his hole. As he realized what was there he looked back at Sherlock’s face and saw the wicked little smile again. “You knew I couldn’t just watch, didn’t you?”

“Obvious,” said Sherlock, eyes full of mischief.

John carefully withdrew the plug, making Sherlock gasp and close his eyes. There was only a few seconds of emptiness before John was thrusting forward, making Sherlock cry out as he pushed in to the hilt. John shifted, pinning his wrists with both hands as he settled into a hard pace, making him pay for the last few minutes of delicious torture.

He leaned down and bit the pale shoulder, making Sherlock writhe underneath him as he dragged his teeth, then licked the mark. He leaned up and watched Sherlock’s face, eyes screwed shut, breath short as John plowed into him. Shifting them a bit, John hit his prostate.

Sherlock gasped. John moved against that spot again and again until his lover babbled with need and desire. “Come on, Sherlock,” he growled. “Come for me.”

“ _John,_ ” Sherlock came hard, crying out his name as cum splattered his alabaster chest. John gasped as he clenched tight around him. But he wouldn’t relent, not yet, kept driving, kept taking until Sherlock slowly opened his eyes to meet his own.

That tipped John over the edge, those amazing eyes, still addled by lust, not quite focusing on the man before him. This was his favorite way to come, knowing that he’d done this, that Sherlock only looked this way with him. It was enough to tip him over, coming almost silently as he filled Sherlock.

Leaning down he kissed Sherlock tenderly before wrapping him in his arms and pulling him to a seat, holding him against his chest and smoothing his hair. Sherlock hummed contentedly against his shoulder and he couldn’t think of any better place to be than this.

 


End file.
